My date has just got back from New York. I know this because he mentions it every five sentences. The shimmering neon is still visible in his starstruck eyes, and has blinded him to the fact that my own glazed over some time ago. My eye wandering over his shoulder to someone standing in the distance. That someone looks familiar. Hotly familiar.

My date leans on the bar and looks me over, before telling me he's glad he messaged me. I thank him, and then ask him why he did in the first place. I don't generally seek approval or security by asking dates why they're interested in me, but he is a genuine puzzle.

The true currency of dating, the one you never really think about, is time. Whether you're buttering up a honey in a noisy bar, doing extra lengths at the swimming pool to impress a buff lifeguard or stumbling through endless online profiles, the amount of time you spend on this initial process can be disheartening if the end result is less than satisfactory.